Nightlight
by Yoshiman
Summary: Quick little story; not much to say about it. But Zigzagoons are, how do you say, 'kawaii'. Short Story.


Nightlight  
  
By Yoshiman  
  
Masim Jones woke up in a very strange place.  
  
The room was pitch black, except for a small light in one corner. Or rather, it may have been in the middle of room. Or otherwise. It was too dark to even judge how far away it might have been. And The light didn't radiate at all, it was like a hole, in the middle of space, filled with light. And yet it just glowed, attracting Masim's attention. It wasn't like there was anything else to look at.  
  
Masim started thinking about why he was here, why he got here. He didn't think of any specific purpose, not off the top of his head, it might have well been an accident. He remembered. . . he was in the middle of a Pokémon battle, when his Minun blasted Thunder at its opponent, a simple Abra, belonging to his friend. At the same moment, he saw the Abra use teleport. The shockwave was unlike anything he'd ever seen, it was as though everything was pulling into the Abra, instead of outwards. Why this happened, he figured it was from the attack supercharging the psychic powers of the Abra, probably creating a surge of power, and sending him off. That was just a guess, it might not have been anywhere close to true, and most likely wasn't. The best reason for doubting it was that the room was nowhere. And Masim was laying down on top of nothing. He wore nothing, but that didn't matter because he couldn't seem to feel himself anyway, as if he could even see his hand in front of his face. Oddly enough, he couldn't feel his own chest when he touched himself, or any part of himself. The only thing he could see was the light. The nightlight.  
  
Masim walked toward it. It seemed to be on the floor, maybe if in actuality it was an inch across, it would have been twenty feet away. But when he walked towards it, it didn't look like he was getting very close. He was walking straight towards it, too, maybe at a forty-five degree angle, and he could feel gravity's pull downward, but he could stand straight up without toppling over, as thought he were being held up. Masim took another step forward.  
  
The light didn't grow closer, not after a hundred steps. He ran at it; it stayed the same size. Only after what might have been two hours did it look any bigger. It was maybe the size of a pinhead now. And two weeks passed; it was the size of a basketball. Masim didn't grow hungry at all, nor did he worry about anything he left behind. This place was seriously starting to be spooky to him, and he just wanted to get to that big light to see if it would lead him out of here.  
  
He finally started to think about his family on what might have been the fourth week. The light was a beach ball now, and he still was walking without tiring. He remembered his son, his parents, if they missed him, if they even knew he was gone. He thought about his Pokémon, if they were alright, or if they went to the same strange place, or maybe their own places. What if he never saw them again? All that work he put into being a trainer. . . he was the top in his city, and nearing the top in his region. And it had taken him years to get there. But why did he have to be here, in this strange place. Why now? Why did he have to be taken form everything he loved in a half second?  
  
Now maybe seven weeks had passed. The light was nearly as big as a medicine ball; it still didn't fill his range of vision. He would have gone mad from the sheer loneliness of the place if he wasn't so set on attaining his goal. Only a little while more, and he should be able to reach it. He didn't try to worry himself about remembering anything; if he ever got out of here, he wouldn't forget, right? He just needed to focus on the goal for now. Although, he couldn't remember what the names of a few of his close friends were. . .  
  
Fourteen weeks. How big was this thing? Masim wanted to know, although he wasn't too worried about it, as long as he eventually got there. Even though it filled up his range of vision, the light didn't help him see himself at all, it was as though he really wasn't there. He began to think of the possibility that he was in a coma and having a dream. A very long dream. He decided to break from the monotony for a while and try and think about something. But there was nothing to think about. He had a hard time just remembering the name of his son, or his wife. What was happening?  
  
Nineteen weeks had gone by. The ball of light stretched from side to side of what he could see in front of him, and he stopped. He was finally in front of it. The light radiated onto him, but when he looked down, he wasn't there. He could move his hands, his feet, but he wasn't there. He didn't know what to make of it. And he tried to remember what his life was like. And his life wasn't there; his memory was erased. The only thing he could remember was the happenstance of his coming here. And that memory, too, was fading.  
  
So Masim walked three steps forward and touched the glowing white ball.  
  
4:20 a.m.  
  
1219 Overwell Pass, just outside Lark City.  
  
A Zigzagoon hatched out of its shell, seeing its parents in front of her. He yelp out his species name, like Pokémon do, at his mother, a Linoone named Bright. Nuzzling her son, the small Zigzagoon broke away the shell quickly. Bright's trainer stood nearby, and he kneeled down. He was a young boy, no more than sixteen. Looking at the new Pokémon, he said, "I'll need to name you, won't I?"  
  
He had the strangest urge to call him something like 'Maxim'.  
  
End 


End file.
